Abstract: An evil genius. A sexual bed. Movie stars helplessly snared. Who could ask for anything more? Okay, we'll add sex!
Disclaimer: This is adult fiction. That means if you're not an adult, or adults aren't supposed to read this sort of stuff where you live, don't. And fiction means it's not true. If you think you can solve your relationship problems by using hypnosis or drugs, try therapy instead: it's real, and it works.
Thanks to "Simon," to all the writers who've made Simon Bar-Sinister's site an excellent source for mind control, the ASSTR folks who have given erotica a home of its own.
Comments good and bad should be directed to ploni_almoni@mailexcite.com. I live for your letters and without them wither and fade into Internet hell without them. Oh, and send cash to asstr-mirror.org; it's their good services that make these stories available for our pleasuring.
Vinai Design shot up through the fashion world like a Tommy Hilfiger for the elite. Laila made sure it got top billing in Vanity Fair, Elle and a few other key magazines, and then, along with Jenna, busily fielded calls from agents of the rich and famous. The bed had been available for barely three months, and was already toted as the "in" thing for the Hollywood set.
Laila enthusiastically launched into her dozenth pitch of the morning. "Yes, Demi, it is absolutely fabulous, I have one at home. Oh, yes, it goes well with almost any color scheme. As a matter of fact," she continued, with a dramatic pause, "I have demonstration bed that was just released from manufacturing." A pause. "Oh, no, of course it's never been slept in; it's a factory model that was due to go out to Neeman Marcus later this month; I can arrange for free shipping if it will help you decide to try it out." She awkwardly scribbled on an order pad. "All right, I'll have it sent to your home this afternoon. Just remember to plug it in when you get it, and use the card in the envelope. Ah huh, that's right, it's electronic, and it's sooo relaxing to sleep in." Laila blushed and inserted another finger into her already sopping pussy, trying to writhe around it without affecting the sale. "Oh, yes, Demi, it's a real pleasure to sleep in!" She nodded, grinning widely, heedless of her now-visible smile lines at her eyes.
And so it went. Demi, Steve, Ricky Lee, Jamie Lee, and on up the fashion and Hollywood food chain. And a week after each had the bed they would call Jenna up.
Jenna got this call on the third ring; she was busy on two lines. "Fender Associates, may I help you?"
The voice on the other end was warm, yet somehow wooden. "Yes, this is Yasmine. My bed is my pleasure, I must share it with others." Jenna shuddered as she heard the code phrase, clenching her thighs tightly together. It was 10:30 in the morning, but this was the fourth call of the day, and Jenna's thighs and chair were already dripping with her cream, unbridled by any panties. She clutched the phone, panting for a moment as her orgasm swept over her, her generous curves wobbling and jiggling against the tight, thigh high dress. In the two months since she first slept on her Bed, she had gone from a size four to a size ten. Laila had been supplying her with larger and larger clothing, now that she had gone from her 34C-22-28 rake-thin form to her current and generous 40D-28-38 shape, but although she seemed to have leveled out, she was still about a size shy of feeling comfortable in her clothes. Laila had hinted that she had another set of clothes coming to her, and it wouldn't be a moment too soon.
"All right, Yasmine," she said as her pleasure subsided, "you should come over and see us as soon as your normal schedule permits."
"Oh, I can cancel my shoots for today and come right over," Yasmine replied.
Jenna frowned. They were all so... eager when they first called. "No, Yasmine, you need to maintain your normal schedule. Don't change anything, don't do anything different, except make sure you sleep in your own Bed every night." She continued, "you should share the Bed with anyone you think can help spread the word. If you have any boyfriends, or girlfriends..." she trailed off, waiting.
"Oh, yes!" Yasmine squealed. "That's right! There's Ron, and Jimmy, and Holly, and a few others-"
Jenna rolled her eyes and cut her off. "Yasmine. Yasmine! Before you do anything, you need to come in so we can talk with you." When do you finish your schedule for today?"
"Ummm, I finish my shoot at six, but I've got a party to go to at around nine."
"Fine. Be at our office at seven o'clock. This will take no more than an hour, so come in your party clothing so you won't be late." She paused. "It's important, Yasmine, that you act perfectly normal. Do you understand that?"
"Yes, I understand. My bed is my secret... but I will share it with others, right?" she sounded pleading.
"Of course, Yasmine. But first come over this evening so we can talk about whom you should first share your bed with. All right?"
"Oh, yes. I'll be... where are you, exactly?"
Jenna rolled her eyes and carefully gave directions. Then she had Yasmine repeat them back. After she finished her on-hold calls she put the office phones on busy and slipped into Laila's office, where Laila had just hung up on her latest pre-sale. "Laila, we have a problem with some of latest clients." Laila cocked an eyebrow and nodded her head for Jenna to continue. "Some of the people calling in have been very - enthusiastic." She waved her hand. "Yes, I know they should be. It's just that, well, they don't seem to be thinking very clearly. It's almost as if they were too excited, if you know what I mean."
Laila nodded, once more taking the dominant role in their relationship. "We'll talk to Daphne about that tonight, Jenna. Are we on track for fulfilling the orders I'm taking for the single Beds?"
Jenna glanced up at the whiteboard hung in place of one of Laila's formerly precious paintings: columns across the top showed prospects in various stages, with the last column reserved for 'customers.' She glanced down to her PalmPilot, woke it up, and called up a note on it. "Ummm, yes, Laila, we still have stock. But I think we should concentrate more in the next week on couples, since we're going to run short of single Beds before too long." She paused. "Are these the latest figures, Laila? Are we really this close to our first wave target?" She shook a little, feeling her hunger rising and her pussy wetting as she saw how close they were to fulfilling such an important task set for them.
Laila glanced at the figures, then her Palm. Then shuddered, just a bit, her eyes glazing and her nipples rising beneath the sheer, silk dress. "Umm, hmm, I think we're-" she stopped to let out a small groan and shiver her hips "-real close." She reached out for Jenna with one hand as she closed her PalmPilot and set it on the table behind her with the other. "I think we're overdue for our morning break, don't you?" Jenna nodded as she moved forward into Laila's embrace, hiking up Laila's short skirt so she could insinuate her generous thigh up against Laila's wet crotch before wrapping her arms around her boss. Laila gasped a bit and leaned back against her desk, wrapping her palms around the desk's edge as Jenna shifted down, licking Laila's neck, then eagerly nibbling her way down to Laila's generous breasts, now straining, upthrust, through her dress. As Jenna latched on to her right nipple, she brought her right hand around and up, making a swipe at her other breast, tweaking her nipple, then diving straight down her dress front, and up the short hemline up into her overheated crotch, briefly cupping her pussy before starting her insistent, practiced thrusts with a rubbing thumb offsetting her wriggling fingers embedded in Laila's cunt.
Within a few seconds Laila's knees gave out, and they both sank to the floor in front of the desk. Laila grasped downwards, cupping her smooth, manicured hands around what she could of Jenna's swollen breasts, her fingers slipping until she was just able to twirl and twist Jenna's nipples as Jenna slid further down, supplanting her thrusting tongue and suckling lips to Laila's sopping snatch.
Jenna was lost in a whirl of flaring passion, the images behind her closed eyes of the Bed's passion programming as Laila's nails alternately gently and roughly flared her own crotch to a passion, her hips writhing, trying to find friction on the carpeted floor. After a minute of this she moaned into Laila's nether, flooding lips, and scuttled around until her pussy straddled Laila's automatically straining lips. She lowered her hips with a sigh, which quickly shifted into a moan as Laila thrust her tongue past her lips and pushed deep into her cunt. Neither had the time to undress: their sexual compulsion thrust them at light speed into their approaching orgasms, they were writhing their breasts on each other as they lapped and greedily sucked each other until first Laila, and then Jenna, froze into a tremor of orgasmic convulsions.
After more than a minute they both relaxed, and Jenna slumped to one side, each breathing heavily into the other's sopping pussy, each lying on the pillow of the other's thigh. As if choreographed, they settled into a side-by-side hug, which resolved into a more intense orgy of oral sex, each striving to bring the other to the brink again and again, as fast as possible. After about an hour they lay sprawled on the office carpet, each face-up, staring languidly at the ceiling, the office reeking of satisfied sex.
Jenna, the practical one, propped herself up on her elbows first, and glanced through her wild hair at her watch. "Laila, it's almost time for lunch, and then we have three appointments back-to-back before closing. And tonight we must meet with Daphne-" they both shuddered uncontrollably for a moment in programmed pleasure "- before going to Bed tonight." Jenna paused, thoughtfully, absently trying to rework her mane of hair into a semblance of a hairdo as she scooted to a sitting position. "Do you have someone in mind to bring to your Bed tonight?" she asked, still somewhat languidly.
Laila nodded, as she grabbed a small towel out of one of her desk drawers and started wiping herself dry. "Yes - unhh - I do," she stuttered as she made a pass over her still tender labia, then gave a quick wipe. "But more importantly," she added, tossing in into a covered hamper in the corner of the room, and lighting an incense stick on a stand above it, "is there somewhere where we could eat a really thick steak? I'm starving, especially after all this, this work, this morning," she concluded, trying to ignore Jenna's chuckle and sashaying walk as she carried herself out of Laila's office to her desk, and her towels and makeup.
Lunch weighed logily on them as they returned from their local Cattleman's Ranch House. In the short time they'd taken to eating lunch there they had evolved - or perhaps devolved - a following of sorts. They would whirl in, be taken to a rear table, and be served a pair of 16 ounce steaks with all the trimmings, with plenty of milk to wash it all down. Within half an hour they'd be out again, leaving curiously hungry waiters and busboys in their wake. This was the way their Beds had shown them would let them grow most quickly into their correct shapes, and they did, as always, as their Beds bade them.
Jenna went and set up the meeting room for their first afternoon customers. Their sales presentations were always given in private, and never gave their prospects a chance to say no to their offer. They took turns in the bathroom to clean and freshen up before Jeff, a gawky yet strangely cute movie star, showed up for his 2PM appointment. True to his style he showed up alone, with no entourage or minder, driving his own motorcycle into their discrete, covered parking. Jenna met him at the door, escorted him into the meeting room, and took him his drink request for hot coffee, plus her custom additives. Laila was already waiting for him in the room, and stood as he entered, every inch the luscious professional.
"Why hello, Jeff, it's very good to see you; I hope this time wasn't too inconvenient."
Jeff smiled his slightly abashed half-smirk and lankily folded into the deep, soft seat across the round, dark wood table from Laila. "No, Ms. Fender, not a problem at all. After Will called me up and practically blackmailed me into coming, I wasn't eager to see him this evening without having seen you after all he said about you." His hooded eyes raked her up and down, taking in the sheer silk dress and her ripe body pressed up beneath it. "Well," Laila said, "I'm very flattered he's a satisfied customer," keeping her tone even and innocent, even as she shifted just a tad in her seat to better focus his gaze on her swelling breasts. She watched as he took a gulp of his coffee, and casually glanced down at her watch, noting the time.
Jeff glanced around as he took another draught of the perfectly warm, slightly spicy coffee. There were muted, impressionist paintings on the wall, along with some neo-techno pieces. There was another on the table, like a futuristic, optic fiber piece, set into the table top, facing him. He lifted an index finger from the coffee cup and pointed at it. "What's that, a prop from my Memorial Day movie?" he asked. As he did, he almost could see a little flicker in the device, as if it was acknowledging his presence.
Laila gave a small laugh. "No, sorry, I never saw the movie. This is actually part of the décor of the Bed. Functional décor, actually, I'll explain it when I do my pitch."
"Well, now is as good a time as any," he paused, looked at his watch. "I've got something scheduled at three, and I was hoping to get some quiet time by myself before meeting with my troll of an agent," he said.
'Excellent,' thought Laila. 'Over two hours.' "Well," she continued aloud, "let's get started then." She launched into an overview of the fictitious inventor, and the fictitious company that made the beds, taking note of his occasional swig at the coffee. She droned on, as tonelessly as she could, about the quality of the sheets, the structural solidity, and anything else in the repertoire, until she saw his eyelids flicker just a bit, and stopped. "You look a little tired, Jeff. Please let me give you a little more coffee," she said, and pressed a button under her desk. Jenna immediately entered with a fresh cup, pulling the empty one out of his half-unresisting fingers.
Jeff looked a bit dazed, and Laila leaned forward a bit and brought her ringed hand to her neck, where she had a glittery pendant. His helpless eyes followed, then following the line of her dress down her décolletage, to her nipples that were rising as his weariness grew. She slowly, almost lovingly, moved her hand from her neck to the Bed sconce set into the table, his eyes following them along. She tapped the top of the sconce once, getting his attention, then said sharply, "Drink, Jeff. Finish the coffee and I'll continue." She dropped her hand from the top down to the side of the sconce, gently cupping its side, almost possessively, as Jeff, already partially drugged, took sip after sip after sip until the cup was as empty as his eyes.
Laila tapped her nail against the side of the sconce; just enough to draw his eyes in their direction, then triggered the sconce with another switch under the table, and then locked the door with a third. Jeff's eyes grew large as the swirling, spiraling lights caught and held his gaze, and Laila launched into her induction of her Mistress' latest victim.
"You need to watch the lights, Jeff, you can see through them to the center if you look closely enough at the lights. Look closer, Jeff, look deeper." She suppressed a grin as Jeff grimaced, his eyes crossing, as he tried to follow the lights. Then she shifted over, pulling her bag along with her under she was kneeling beside Jeff, looking up at him as she pulled a set of earphones, a recorder, and another sconce from her bag.
She set the sconce down at his feet, and said "You re getting very warm, Jeff, warm and horny. You're getting hot, Jeff, and you are getting erect. Your penis is getting longer and longer, and you need to feel more comfortable." She paused for her suggestions to penetrate, then "Spread your legs, Jeff, spread them to get more comfortable. He immediately did, and she reached up and cupped his swelling crotch for a delicious moment before finding and pulling on his zipper. His penis popped out immediately, and she smiled a bit as she saw it was still swathed in old-fashioned "fly" underwear. With a practiced hand she flicked it aside, and his circumcised penis finally sprang free, swaying and twitching as it grew to full length, then started purpling and veining up. She gently ran a fingernail up its length, stopping at the glans and watched it throb. After a minute, the tip started glistening, and Laila opened up a condom and slowly unrolled it down his shaft, her fingers making a tight "O" around him as the latex descended down to his root.
She started salivating at the sight, but caught herself in time; there would soon be plenty of time for that. First, however, she reared back up around the table and up beside him. "You are still feeling hot, Jeff. Can you feel the heat?"
"Uhhh. Huhhh," was the slow response.
"Okay, Jeff. I'll put something on your ears in a minute that will cool you off. You will start feeling focused and cooler as soon as I put something on your ears."
"Uhhh."
"But there's something you need to know, Jeff, before we go on." She paused. "You can't orgasm now. Okay, Jeff? You can't orgasm because you need it for later. So until I say it's later, you can't cum. Do your understand, Jeff?"
"Yuhhh. Can't cum. Gotta wait. ;Til later. You say later. Yuhhh." He trailed off into silence.
"All right, Jeff, I'm putting something on your ears now. You need to listen to it. It's the most important thing in the world. When you've listened and agreed to everything, you can help me make it later." She slipped the earphones on Jeff's head, and switched them on. She could hear her Mistress' voice coming through them, a siren call, one she dare not answer. Jeff's eyes opened wide, then slammed shut. Laila kept stroking Jeff's penis, trying to time it to the rhythm of his pulsings, watching it grow and twitch. As the Mistress' talk came to a climax she started stroking harder, flicking his head with her lips through the latex. Jeff started rolling his hips, trying to get more of her mouth around his cock. She kept moving back, waiting until her Mistress was ready to reward her.
In under a minute she was, via her servant, Jeff. He absently grabbed at his temple with his right hand, pulling the earphones off his head and onto the floor, then, eyes wide and wild, he reached forward and downward, and pulled Laila up off her knees. He awkwardly shoved the chair backwards, started licking at her throat, her neck, her chin, nibbling wildly at her lips as his left hand swept and held her back while his right tugged down at his jeans while he tried to stand up enough to get them free. In a moment his pants were down around his ankles, along with his underwear, and he lurched forward, toppling Laila backwards onto the carpeted floor, breaking her fall with his hand. Somewhere back near the door Laila dimly heard a crunch: she went through at least three recorders a day, and that was number two. The thought quickly fled has his groping hands swooped over her sides, up and around to her generous breasts, and started kneading them as his chin scraped down her hips toward her wet, sweltering crotch. She twitched and moaned as his eager lips nibbled their way through her silk panties, adding to the sensation as he scraped his teeth along the material, transmitting the sensation directly to her pouting pussy lips and budding clitoris. She bucked, swiveled, and caught his teeth on the edge of the material, which he snapped out, pulled aside with his teeth as he spared a hand and searching fingers to rub, paw, and grind his fingers into her labia, then into her squelching, waiting snatch.
For a time suspended there was nothing for Laila, or Jeff, outside his searching fingers, lips, palms and nose, and her insatiable, hungry sex. Waves, tsunamis, oceans of pleasure drowned her to the depths of ancient, weathered seamounts of salty fluids, moans of her mouth, and flesh burning but was not consumed.
And then it ebbed, enough for Laila to frantically pull Jeff up, her shoulder blades twitching as his blind, searching lips found her lonely nipples, and his cock to find the slick entrance to her hot, unquenchable cunt. One more shuddered pull, and he slammed into her, his glans running quickly up the swollen ridges of her vaginal sheath, brushing too lightly up against her G-spot as the head probed near her cervix. Propriety thrown to the hypnotic winds, Laila grabbed Jeff's shoulders and pushed him aside, hauling herself atop him in one aggressive movement, still joined at the core. He was too far gone to do anything but follow her lead. Quickly she pulled her knees up around his hips, arched back up, and shuddered as his hands found her chest and wandered, each finger with an agenda, across her chest and up around and behind her ears. She shuddered, and ground down on his penis, now pushing up tight against her pubis, giving her what she needed from him.
Jeff jerked upwards in response, trying to drill up and meet her thrusts halfway. But she had him pinned, and torqued and twisted her hips up, around and down around him as he pistoned blindly up and down inside her. With one hand she steadied herself by putting her hand on his chest, tweaking a nipple between two knuckled fingers as her right hand dove down, to her sopping cunt, one finger checking his condom while the others busied themselves with strumming her turgid clit.
"Now," she gasped into his ear, arching herself up as he plumbed her depths, "l-l-later!"